Jason came to our homestead a couple of weeks ago and spent three hours with us, mostly interviewing Steve about his bow making, and taking pictures with his fancy camera. I trailed along, taking pictures of Jason taking pictures of Steve. I also wanted to be present at the interview, to make sure Steve didn't under-represent himself, since he is the most humble, self-effacing, modest being on the planet (and I am not). I represent the public relations in our business, so I wanted to make sure the public would be related with adequately, meaning that Jason would be quite aware of (and write about) all the different things we offer at our homestead. And he did it! We are so pleased with the article he wrote about Steve, and with all the good publicity he sent our way. What a good guy. Now everyone should vote for him to be Mayor of Concrete (he is running for office – no kidding!). I mean, here is a guy with nerves of steel, who lets a man with a bow shoot an arrow directly at him to get a good picture for his newspaper.
This week has been Steve's chance to shine. He hosted a Sacred Hunting workshop at our homestead, in collaboration with his friends at Restorative Adventures, attracting an amazing group of high quality participants. They are all committed to bow hunting in a very respectful manner, where the goal is not to kill an animal at any cost, but to receive a gift and honor it appropriately. The weekend involved beautiful community building, a sweat lodge ceremony, intention setting, archery, practicing of primitive skills and a campout in the woods. Kai and Lukas were with Steve the whole weekend, immersed in this amazing experience, and Eva and I joined the group for a while on both days. One of the participants brought his six-year-old daughter, so Eva had a little buddy to hang out with. I loved the inclusive feel of the group, and the fact that two of the women not only succeeded in lighting a fire by rubbing two sticks together, but also managed to look otherwordly gorgeous as they shot their bows and arrows.
|Hand drill fire making.|
|The girls teamed up and produced a piece of coal...|
|...which they then blew into a flame...|
|...and into a fire.|
We all went to the creek, which is teeming with spawning Humpies. They are also called Pink Salmon, the smallest but most prolific of all the five salmon species of the Pacific Northwest. They only return every two years to spawn in the rivers they were born in. We saw dozens of these prehistoric looking fish, fighting their way up the current and the males with their prominent hump backs fighting each other. Some of them looked pretty beaten up already, and some of them decorated the beach as rotten carcasses, with their eyes pecked out by eagles. Our Sacred Hunting group watched the spawning spectacle with awe, imagining the journey these ancient animals have endured to get here - so they can spawn and die. The youngest members of our group belly-crawled to the water so they wouldn't spook the fish. They attempted to touch the slippery fish with their hands and got very, very close.
Look very closely at the pictures - the salmon are camouflage in this beautiful green water.